Love Fabulously
by Acteon Carolsfeld
Summary: Troubles getting hot and steamy with your mech? Hopelessly overlooked by the subject of your infatuation? Worry not! With ingenious advices from the Love Doctor, you will never be without a berth-warmer ever again! [DROPPED]
1. 00

**Warning:** Abundance of silly fun, and (sometimes) coarse language.

**Continuity:** Transformers: Prime

**Time Units: **(how long they feel as opposed to direct time equivalents)

_Klik_ – second

_Breem_ – minute

_Joor _– hour

_Cycle _– 1 day (not to be confused with "night cycle", which just means night-time)

_Deca_ – A week

_Stellar_ – half a year

_Meta_ – 1 year

_Vorn_ – 10 years

Special thanks to _lildevchick_ for making the first submission. :)

* * *

><p>Knockout was bored.<p>

Life on the Nemesis was dull. The war was becoming stagnant. Energon was aplenty, and Lord Megatron was too busy pretending to not care about the absence of his flighty little second-in-command to come up with any interesting universe domination plans. Even the Autobots seemed to be perfectly content with the complete lack of activity, their usually nosy suspicion strangely nonexistent.

Actually, now that Knockout thought about it, life was kind of good. No fighting meant no horrendous scratches on Knockout's flawless finish, and no horrendous scratches on Knockout's flawless finish meant a happy Knockout with plenty of time to worship his reflection. However, there were only so many reflective surfaces on the awfully grimly decorated Decepticon warship, and Knockout had already passed by all of them. This would not do, pondered the sports car as he sauntered back to his med bay. He would need to find some other way to stimulate his narcissistic sentimentalities before he, Primus forbid, started to forget why he loved himself so much.

Knockout was checking out his beautiful faceplate on the darkened screen of the console when a strange beep came from the machine. Upon further inspection, it would seem that he had received a new message from the main frame of the Nemesis' central computer. Curious, he activated the console, and scrolled through the copious amount of newsletters he had received from various bodyworks broadcast channels. Pinpointing the new message took some time, and, when he finally found it, he was a little surprised to note that it had come from Soundwave.

Soundwave never sent messages. He either comm.-ed you in encryption, or snuck up on you while you were doing something important. Somewhat intrigued by the abnormality, Knockout hummed, and quickly clicked it open. To his further surprise, the message was an invite to a human website called "Blogger's", where any human (or Cybertronian, apparently) could write random articles, post pictures, and do a wide variety of other pointless things to amuse themselves.

"Huh." Knockout raised a brow-ridge.

He was not sure why Soundwave had sent him such a thing.

Filing such oddity as Soundwave being Soundwave, Knockout was just about to delete the message when something flashy caught his optics. It was an advert of some kind for one of the most popular "blogs" on this "Blogger's" website. Its header was surrounded by a ring of red and pink roses, and within the ring was a title of some sort written in fancy, squiggly lettering. "The Flirtatious Dater", it read, crowned by a sparkly heart on each of the "I"s. Attracted by all the sparkling, Knockout clicked on the thing, and another separate window popped up. Maximizing it to full-screen, he gave the gaudily coloured page a full sweep with his optics, and grimaced in obvious distaste.

"This human female does not know what she's talking about at all!" He cried out peevishly, gesturing at the screen as though its contents personally offended him. "Mutual respect? Sharing short term and long term goals?" He huffed, and crossed his arms, "I'm surprised anyone would take this load of scrap seriously!"

To his utter astonishment, a lot of humans took this load of scrap seriously. In fact, this "Flirtatious Dater" had more "followers" than anyone else on the website!

…Wait.

Followers.

Knockout's optics instantly zoomed in on the word.

…There was something about this that was beginning to entice him greatly.

* * *

><p>"Knockout, are you sure this is a good idea?" Breakdown glanced around at the new decor of the med bay, and frowned, casting worried looks at the magenta mech situated in the middle. Knockout merely waved his concern away, and beckoned him to come forward.<p>

"Nothing here is permanent. I just needed a nice background that'll really make _me_ pop." Jutting a hip to the side, the sports car daintily placed his fingers on his chassis, and posed in front of the medical berth, which was now covered by a large, black cloth. On top of the cloth was a variety of puffy, stuffed sacks with patterned fabrics in different shapes and sizes. Breakdown had no idea where Knockout had managed to acquire such obviously human things in scale to that of a Cybertronian, but the medic had somehow managed, generously adorning the berth with the flimsy looking objects.

"I'm still not sure what you want me to do." The larger Decepticon strode forward as instructed, and stood in front of his smaller partner. "Lord Megatron is going to be very angry if he finds out you've been collecting human artifacts and placing them around the med bay."

"He won't get angry if he doesn't find out," Knockout shrugged carelessly, and joined Breakdown in inspecting the large chamber.

The puffy sacks were only a portion of the decorations now plaguing the med bay. There were also curtains, chairs, and even, for some reasons, a four-legged bathtub. Breakdown was not familiar with humans and their preferences for furnishing, but he knew that the inhabitants of Earth no longer catered to such styles on a general consensus. However, – he quirked his helm to the side – this style, strangely, seemed to suit Knockout rather nicely.

"You like it?" Knockout asked when he noticed his large, blue friend checking out the fancy lounging sofa he had commissioned. "I was told that these are considered as 'vintage' on the mud-ball." He slowly circled the sofa, and carefully draped his frame over its long seat. He stretched languidly, and shifted until his positioning accentuated all of his wondrous curves. Flashing his partner a playful, amorous smile, he winked, and murmured softly in a sensuous purr:

"Make sure you get my good side, Breakdown." He addressed his somewhat stunned counterpart, "But then again, all of my sides are good."

* * *

><p>After a long day of posing and picture taking, Knockout sat in front of the console, and began to design his blog page. Breakdown snoozed behind him on the medical berth, resting after several vigorous rounds of passionate interfacing. Who would have ever thought that human furniture could be so helpful in being provocative? Knockout smiled. He might have to eventually throw away the pillows and the curtains, but that four-legged bathtub he was <em>definitely<em> keeping.

Picking a name for his blog had been simple. "Love Fabulously" was an embodiment of how he believed everyone should go about their way of finding a partner. Deciding on a background, however, was difficult, since he had so many pictures to work with. It was hard to pick which image to use when he looked incredible in every shot. Somehow, he managed to narrow the choices down to a few, and proceeded to creatively utilize them in the most artistically pleasing way. Before long, his page was done, and he let out a pleased sigh, clicking the "make my page" button.

A pop up appeared, demanding that he recommend this website to at least five other people. Irritated, Knockout tried to bypass the thing, but it simply would not budge. After several breems of cursing and muttering, he finally decided to give up, and started to follow the instructions.

Now, who should he invite to this "Blogger's" website?

Breakdown, obviously.

Starscream. He never checked his messages anyways.

Arachnid. Just because she'd get extremely annoyed to receive such invite.

Skyquake. The slagger's dead, but his message center wasn't.

Aaaand…Soundwave.

Could he invite someone who was already on the website? Knockout hummed to himself, and shrugged. Only one way to find out. He clicked the "next" button, and smirked when everything went through without hassle.

Now, all he would need to do was to sit back, relax, and watch the organics flock his beautiful page begging for his expertise.

He sat back, relaxed, and he watched.

…But nothing happened.

He frowned.

Was there a glitch?

He refreshed his page.

Still nothing.

He huffed, and waited some more.

Ten breems passed, and still nothing. He was just about to get up from his chair to rouse Breakdown from his dozing when an alert popped up and caught his attention.

"Edit profile?" It read, and he arched up a brow-ridge, clicking it without much thought. A new page appeared, asking about various aspects of his life. He answered them accordingly, and clicked the "save" button once he was done.

Another alert instantly popped up, and he frowned, clicking on it as well.

"Compose first post?" It read, and he hummed, shrugging to himself before reaching for the keyboard to type his response. Before he knew it, a joor had passed, and the alerts still kept popping. By the time he had finally finished filling out everything on his page, most inhabitants of the Nemesis had already gone to recharge. Taking an irate cycle of air through his intakes, Knockout stood from his chair, and stretched his stiff joints. What a waste of time, he thought. A whole cycle dedicated to this stupid thing, and still no follower. He glared at the screen, and huffed, turning on his heels to nudge Breakdown awake so they could return to their quarters together.

Suddenly, a tiny, blurping sound came from the console, and he immediately swirled around.

Someone had just become his follower.

His first follower! He grinned, and hurriedly returned to his chair, and clicked on the alert.

"Hello-Ravage", it read, and beside it was a picture of Soundwave's blank slab of a faceplate.

"Follow back?" The notification asked, and Knockout rolled his optics, tapping the alert closed.

There was no way he was going to become Soundwave's lackey.

…Though it would not hurt to see what the mech was up to wasting his time on a human blog site.

Knockout clicked on the tiny picture Soundwave's faceplate, and was immediately bombarded by an explosion of bright, happy colours. He spent the next few joors wondering why the Decepticon communications officer already had fifty-two followers despite having only made his blog two cycles ago, and why a boring, emotionless mech like _Soundwave_ would dedicate pages upon pages of posts to furry, non-sentient organics called "kittens".

* * *

><p>Knockout was buffing his aft for the third time of the cycle when a quiet "blurp" sounded from the console. Instantly dropping his usually most revered task, he dashed to the computer, and instantly activated its screens. To his extreme giddiness, there was a message pending from his blog page! He hurriedly clicked on the alert, and almost danced in joy when he realized that it was, indeed, a submission.<p>

His first submission!

He immediately opened the message, and scanned the words in hungered haste. Before long, he finished reading the brief lines of text, and he simply sat back, and stared.

…And read it again…

…And stared…

…And read it again just to be sure.

"_Dear Love Fabulously,_"

The submission said in plain text:

"_My partner likes to play rough. I'm more than willing to play along when in the privacy of our chambers, but he likes to carry on the game out in public. It's making me feel inadequate. How do I make him stop?_

_Signed,_

_The Real Leader of the Decepticons_"

Knockout's brow-ridges practically arched off his fore-helm by the time he had finished reading the entry for practically the fifteenth time. He hadn't even expected Starscream to check his message centers, let alone to make an actual request for his expertise. However, very apparently, he was wrong on both accounts.

The medic took a few kliks just to wrap his processors around the implications, and when he finally realized that this was no joke, he almost had a laughing fit. Oh, this was _gold_. He grinned widely, and immediately started to type a response.

"_Dear…Real Leader,_

_Look, sweetie spark, if there's anything I know about big mechs who like to play rough (and trust me – I _know_, a lot), it's that they all secretly want to be knocked down a notch or two every once in a while. Your partner is obviously very desperate for some hard loving on your part, and since you aren't giving it to him, he's probably feeling a little frustrated. Next time you two get hot and steamy, tie him up instead. He'll pretend he's not enjoying it, but trust me: he'll be smiling like an idiot for the rest of his life to have you as a lover._"

And maybe come up with a universe conquering plan that actually worked, Knockout finished in his processors, and signed his post with a customary:

"_Stay fabulous,_

_~The Love Doctor_".

With a swift tap of a finger, the flashy sports car hit the "enter" key, and watched his reply being submitted. Primus knew the only reason Lord Megatron hasn't dominated all know worlds yet was because he was too busy trying to maintain a relationship with the most difficult Seeker in existence. In Knockout's not-so-humble opinion, a lot of good would come out of the two properly fragging the problems in their relationship out.

Now that was over and done with, the medic leaned back in his chair, and crossed his arms behind his helm. He had expected lovesick human females to crave his attention, not his direct top in terms of chain of command. This was becoming much more interesting and promising than he had anticipated. It would appear that his boredom could very well be easily cured in the upcoming cycles, especially after the popularity of his blog soars through the roof.

Lazily spinning in his chair, he wondered if anyone else he knew would end up seeking his advice. Primus, what if one of the Autobots submitted a question? Should he actually put in an effort to give a genuinely helpful response?

His lips parted, and split into a large, devious grin.

Oh this was a great idea indeed…Just thinking about the amount of mayhem he could cause made his circuits tingle in the most pleasant of ways. Speaking of tingling…He hopped off the chair, and swaggered out of the med bay to find his own big mech.

It was time for his afternoon interface.

* * *

><p><strong>Note:<strong> "Hello-Ravage" is playing on "Hello Kitty", because Soundwave's page is full of kitty pictures. ;)

So, what do you guys think? Perhaps I should explain the idea behind this story first.

This story is an _interactive story_, meaning it cannot continue without your help.

How this is going to work is very similar to the "ask" blogs, except the topic of the questions will be more-or-less related to romance.

You have two options:

A) Toss any question, the sillier the better, at Knockout as a random human on the internet stumbling into his blog, or

B) Choose a TF: Prime canon character, and leave a question/comment for Knockout with an alias that very obviously points to who the character you've chosen is.

I actually would very much like to somehow get a plot going at the same time, though I'm not sure how exactly that will work yet. If you've decided on option B, please try to be creative with which character to choose, so there won't end up being five of the same character with no other character participating. If there are overlapping questions, I may have to do minor editing and/or blend the questions together, but you don't have to worry about that.

Just leave Knockout a question or two. ;)

Remember, this is an interactive story, which means it can't go on without your participation. Feel free to leave comments for Knockout too if you don't have a question at the moment. He's looking for followers, so I'm sure he won't mind if you shower him with praise. XD

Oh, one last thing:

Please do not choose Soundwave yet for option B. I have a small part for him in the next chapter, after which he will be open for you. Thanks a bunch! :)


	2. 01

**Disclaimer: Do not own TF: Prime**

* * *

><p>In just a two cycles, Knockout had gained twenty-three followers. While the number could be bigger, he was quite pleased by the attention he was receiving, smiling indulgently to himself as he leaned his cheek against a propped up hand. Deciding to celebrate, he opened up a "Compose an Entry" tab, and proceeded to express his gratitude to his appreciators.<p>

.

Date: Wednesday, xx/xx/xxxx, 10: 32 PM

Mood: Elated.

Drinking: Highgrade

Watching: My beautiful reflection, baby.

Playing: with myself *wink*

"Hello, tiny followers,

You should be very proud of yourself. You are amongst the first to recognize the significance of my coming to this website, and you seemed to have realized more quickly than the rest of the universe the wisdom of my expertise. Congratulations. Your success in pursuit of love begins now.

I have received your calls for help. Worry not. I will respond to you shortly. As payment for my taking of valuable time to reply to you, you may share the address of my blog with others. The more followers you refer to me, the more inclined I will be to drop you an answer to your questions. It's very simple.

Remember, everything good comes with a price.

Oh, and of course,

Stay fabulous!

~The Love Doctor"

.

Attaching a very dashing picture of his faceplate with the post, Knockout submitted the entry, and was surprised when, not even three kliks later, a notification popped up.

"Hello-Ravage likes your post." It read.

Confused, the medic clicked on the notification, and a comment thread opened.

"Huh." Arching an elegant brow-ridge, the sports car tapped a short response, to which he received an immediate, most enigmatic of answers.

.

Hello-Ravage likes your post.

"…Thank you?" – LoveFabulously (30 seconds ago)

"\(*^0^*)/" – Hello-Ravage (28 seconds ago)

"What _is_ that?" – LoveFabulously (15 seconds ago)

"\( ◦ A ◦ )/?" – Hello-Ravage (12 seconds ago)

"Why do you talk in strange symbols?" – LoveFabulously (5 seconds ago)

"|(É ■ È)|" – Hello-Ravage (3 seconds ago)

.

Knockout stared at the screen, speechless.

It was not often he was rendered speechless, since he was a clever sort of mech.

Putting the oddness down as Soundwave being Soundwave, he clicked the window closed, and stretched in his chair. All this sitting was making his joints stiff. Sending Breakdown a quick comm., the medic got up, and went about his way to get ready to go out for a quick drive.

He'll answer all those pending questions when he comes back.

* * *

><p>Okay, so it was two cycles ago that he promised to himself that he'd reply to those messages.<p>

What? He was a busy mech! Nasty scratches don't buff themselves, you know.

Finally, after much stalling and idling around, Knockout settled back down in the chair, and got to the requests. Deciding to go on random, he clicked the first message his optics caught, and opened it for review.

"_Dear Love Fabulously,_

_What's your favorite food to use during your lovemaking?_

_Signed,_

_Ahintofblue_"

Oh, that's easy.

"_Dear Ahintofblue,_

_Energon is the only sustenance I need, but darling, just let me tell you this:_

_A whole lot can be done with the right amount of creativity and willingness to experiment._

_Signed,_

_Stay Fabulous_

_~The Love Doctor_"

Satisfied with his witty answer, he hit enter, and moved on to the next submission.

"_Dear Love Fabulously,_

_I demand to know where these fabulous pictures of you are so that I may save them and love them to heck. The world does not have enough of your glorious self, and never will (unfortunately). Also, before, I wanted a Camaro. Now, I want whatever kind of car you are. XD_

_Signed,_

_CNS_"

"Ooo, a fan." Knockout cooed to himself, and turned to wink at his reflection from a nearby reflective surface, "You're really too attractive for your own good sometimes."

"_Dear CNS,_

_You are more than welcomed to admire me by coming to my page. I have no objections whatsoever if you visit ten times a cycle, or twenty, or fifty. I am here to be revered for my beauty and my profound knowledge of love, after all._

_I'm glad that you've changed your mind in regards to what vehicle to purchase. Why would you want _that_ gaudy thing when you could have a replica of me?_

_Signed,_

_Stay fabulous_

_~The Love Doctor_"

Sending that one up for post as well, Knockout quickly moved on to the third, and was a little surprised to find that it seemed to have come from an inhabitant of the Nemesis.

"_Dear Love Fabulously,_

_Hi, how's it going?_

_When I happened to stumble across your blog while hacking into Commander Starscream's things, I must confess I was pretty happy. Why? Because this is PERFECT, like you._

_'Kay, so the advice I need is for my friend Dawson. You know, the boring, normal-looking flier I hang out with? He's quiet, mostly keeps to himself, but if you tick him off his temper is a spectacular firework. I think it would be good for him to have a partner, ease some of his bottled up tension, y'know? How would you recommend finding him a partner, and making sure it's someone who won't laugh because he's rather abnormal looking under the mask and extra armor?_

_Thank you for your help!_

_Tat of the red swirls and lilac fingers_"

While Knockout had no idea who this "Tat of the red swirls and lilac fingers" was, he was pretty sure it was one of the drones, since none of the officers had lilac fingers or a friend designated "Dawson".

Huh, who would've ever thought that drones had personalities? …And what a strange name.

"_Dear Red Swirls,_

_Well, I _am_ flattered. It's not often one decides to share his perfection with the world, so you're in luck!_

_Why in the universe would you want to look into Starscream's things, anyways? There's nothing of interest in that dingy, abandoned little room of his aside from outdated interface toys. I checked._

_As for this Dawson of yours, you do know that friends can frag, right? You obviously wouldn't mind having a few romps if you're fine with hanging out with a mech who's…unfortunate looking. Trust me: he doesn't want to be in a relationship if he's got an abnormal faceplate. If he's disfigured, bots will laugh. It's a sad, sad truth, but not everyone is born flawless and beautiful._

_Signed,_

_Stay fabulous_

_~The Love Doctor_"

Phew, this was actually a lot of work. Knockout let out a huff of heated air from his vents. He's never had to work this hard before. Flinging off imaginary condensation on his fore-helm, he hopped off his chair, and took a long, languid stretch of his limbs. Time for another drive with Breakdown, and perhaps a quickie or two at places where squishies just might stumble into them.

Grinning to himself, the sports car swaggered out of the med bay, and went about his way to find his big mech.

* * *

><p>"Knockout, are we still visiting that car wash you wanted to go to?" Breakdown asked as he strode through the med bay door.<p>

"In a bit, Breakie," Knockout turned minutely to give his partner a brief wink, "I'm answering some questions."

"You're really taking this blog thing seriously, aren't you?" The bigger mech murmured, and stopped to lean against the medical berth. Knockout only hummed noncommittally, and returned to his task of helping romance-deprived individuals.

"_Dear Love Fabulously,_

_There's this femme and I really like her, but she keeps bouncing around from one mech to another. How do I win her over?_

_Signed,_

_Large-Not-in-Charge_"

Hmm, this is a tough one, thought Knockout as he stroked his chin. After all, he was all for being free-spirited. Judging by the alias this mech decided to use, he was obviously a big mech who didn't know how to use his bigness to his advantage, which was really too bad, because who doesn't like a big mech?

Knockout shook his helm, tut-ing quietly, and began to type.

"_Dear Large-Not-in-Charge,_

_If this femme likes bouncing around from one mech to another, why haven't you berthed her yet? She obviously doesn't mind who she 'faces as long as it's a good time – something I can personally relate to._

_To be completely frank with you, I don't see why it'd be difficult for you to win her over, especially when you can use your…largeness to your advantage. Once she sees just how big you are, she'd probably stick around for a while, which brings me to my original point:_

_Frag her already, and frag her good._

_If she likes bouncing, it shouldn't be too hard to convince her for a vigorous round or two._

_Signed,_

_Stay fabulous_

_~The Love Doctor_"

"Knockout, the car wash is going to close in about a joor."

"I'll be done in a breem."

"_Dear Love Doctor,_

_I lo-like a certain me-femme a lot yet she doesn't seem to notice even though we fig-hang out all of the time. Sometimes I wonder if h-she notices me AT ALL. So, I was wondering, how do I get hi-her attention?_

_Signed,_

_Little Bug_"

Little Bug…That sounded familiar.

Knockout was just about to put in a sliver of effort to remember where he knew that name from before he got lazy and decided not to. Judging by the way this little bot speaks, he was definitely rather young. Aww, sparkling crush! Knockout sighed wistfully. He had those once upon a time. Too bad he quickly learned that relationships without actual emotional attachments were so much better.

Shaking his processors clear of resurfacing memories, he nibbled on his lips, and wondered how to best go about his way to reply. Since this was a young bot, he'd have to be gentler with his approach. Nodding to himself, he reached for the keyboard, and, slowly, wrote his response.

"_Dear Little Bug,_

_Sweet spark, how long have you known this "femme", hmm? You know you can tell the Love Doctor anything. Have to be careful with first crushes, now. Those can leave painful scars if not handled properly._

_Why do you feel like she doesn't notice you if you see each other all the time? Have you ever given her any indications that you want to be more than_—…"

Were they friends? Knockout frowned a little, and reread the entry. It was a bit vague…hmm…

"_Have you ever given her any indications that you want to be more than what you are now?_" He decided, and continued on:

"_Personally, I prefer the 'kiss first, ask later' approach, but if this is your first time crushing hard on someone, you may want to start off slow. Invite her to a group outing, drop her compliments whenever you see her, make sure to always strut your stuff, and stand just a little closer to her than everyone else. Subtle signals can do wonders._

_Follow those instructions, and good luck, little bot!_

_Signed,_

_Stay fabulous_

_~The Love Doctor_"

"Knockout? The car wash—"

"-I know, Breakdown. You don't have to yell." Knockout tossed a somewhat irate glance over his shoulder. "One more, and we'll go, alright?"

"_Dear Love Fabulously, _

_How would you suggest going about easing tension when you are within a small team and have a reputation to up-keep?_

_Signed,_

_Yours sincerely _

_Sweet-Rims_"

At first, Knockout only stared. Then, his optics stretched so wide that he was sure he was going to rupture something.

"…Breakdown?" He called out, and immediately started wildly gesturing for his partner to come closer. "Breakdown! Breakdown! _Breakdown_!"

"What?" A little alarmed by the urgency in the medic's voice, Breakdown instantly hurried over. Coming to a stop right beside the seated mech, the larger Decepticon peered at the screen, and expected to see some catastrophe of massive proportions. Instead, he only got a small block of text.

"…Well?" Knockout prompted impatiently, optics glimmering in a manner Breakdown had not seen in a very long time.

"…Well what?" Breakdown mumbled, faceplate scrunching into a confused grimace. "I don't see why you got so excited over a fleshie asking a question."

Knockout let out a loud sigh of exaggeration, and rolled his optics. "Sweet Rims, Breakdown?" He gave his partner a long stare. "That's what I called Optimus Prime when we engaged the Autobots outside that human museum!"

At first, Breakdown could only stare back. And then, his optics grew round.

"No way," He stated, "No slagging way."

A big grin slowly stretched upward on the medic's faceplate, and, with a snicker that sounded more like a giggle, the sports car instantly started to compose a response.

"Knockout!" Breakdown exclaimed, shock rendering him somewhat speech deficient. "You-You can't possibly—"

Knockout ignored him.

A little peeved at being ignored, Breakdown glanced at the screen, and felt a sharp jab of hurt when he saw what his partner was writing.

"Knockout!"

"What?" Annoyed at the interruption, Knockout swirled around on the larger Decepticon. Upon seeing the expression on Breakdown's faceplate, he shrugged, and flicked his wrist in a careless gesture. "Hey, c'mon, Breakie, you _know_ I'm not a one-mech kinda guy. You've known this since you started fragging around with me. Besides," he added on, "This is _Optimus Prime_. I'm not about to pass a chance at scoring the leader of the Autobots. How many mechs do you know who can brag that he's berthed a Prime, hmm?" Without waiting for a response from his partner, Knockout turned around in his chair, and continued with his reply.

"_Dear, dear Sweet-Rims,_

_Oh you poor mech, a victim of your own circumstance! The Love Doctor feels for you._

_Moving on to business: there is only one way of solving your problem, darling, and, lucky for you, it's very simple._

_Hook up with someone outside your team!_

_You might think your options are awfully limited, but if you know where to look, you just might find someone who is very much willing to partake in secret rendezvous to give you the thorough ravishing that you deserve._

_All that tension isn't gonna ease themselves, you know._

_Signed,_

_Stay fabulous_

_~The Love Doctor_

_Ps.: _I_ happen to be very good at buffing sensitive equipment, Sweet-Rims._

…_Very good._"

Ha, not even the great Prime can resist that! Awfully pleased with himself, Knockout tapped down on the enter key, and grinned so wide that all of his pearly dentae were bared. He watched the screen giddily, as though willing the Prime to reply within the next ten kliks, and totally forgot about the larger Decepticon waiting behind him until a curt cough jolted him out of his dreamy thoughts.

"Yes, Breakdown?" He turned around, and cast his partner a look.

Breakdown remained motionless and wordless. For several kliks, he did not speak. Knockout lifted up a brow-ridge in question, and the larger mech finally sighed, and made a weak gesture toward the med bay door.

"D'you still wanna head to that car wash?" He asked, though his voice clearly lacked the small tinge of enthusiasm as when he had first arrived into the med bay.

"Hmm, actually," Knockout tapped at his chin pensively, "I don't really feel like taking a walk outside the ship anymore. Why don't we just stay in? You can buff out this dull spot on the back of my left thigh." Getting off the chair, he brushed past his big mech, and sauntered over toward what was now dubbed his "beauty room".

Breakdown did not immediately follow.

Knockout paused, and tilted his helm backward.

"…Well?" He asked, "Are you coming or not?"

Breakdown stared at him for a few moments more, but he ultimately heaved another sigh, and strode forward. For a split of a klik, Knockout almost worried. However, he quickly dismissed such sentiment as trivial, and continued on his way.

Life did not reward those who constantly worried, and Knockout was only interested in rewards.

* * *

><p>Knockout was not sure if he was imagining it, but he could've sworn that Lord Megatron had been glaring at him a whole lot lately. Granted, Lord Megatron had a permanent glare fixed to his faceplate, and he apparently hated everyone except for a certain high-heeled Seeker. However, Knockout was certain that the tyrant was, for some reasons, taking extra care to curl his lips in displeasure whenever the medic passed him in the halls.<p>

It was very disconcerting, but Knockout, for the life of him, could not figure out the why.

He did not figure it out until he activated his console, and checked on the pending messages from his blog.

"_Idiot Medic,_"

The topmost message read:

"_The next time you feel like putting your olfactory sensor into my personal business, I will personally shove my fusion cannon up your aft._"

Knockout did not know how the ex-gladiator had managed to instill such fear from only a plain line of text, but he distinctly felt a cold, crawling sensation up his back-strut.

This was not good, not good at all.

Shoving a phallic object as large as a fusion cannon up his much smaller aft seemed like an impossible feat, but Knockout has seen enough impossible feat proven possible by his merciless leader that he was willing to take this threat to spark. He'd almost had the thought of closing down his blog for good. However, just before he could work up the resolve to click the "deactivate account" button, he noticed another message waiting for him from his lord, following right after the initial message.

"_Also, would it be completely inappropriate to manually shut my partner's vocalizer off during interfacing?_"

Knockout's optics widened into saucers.

"_He's very vocal, and it's beginning to give me a processor ache._

_Signed,_

_Why do I have to sign this thing? I answer to no one!_"

"…Oh. Sweet. Primus." Knockout whispered, wondering if he was seeing things.

:…_Breakdown?_: He hastily comm.-ed his partner, still in complete shock at the sudden turn of events. :_I think…Lord Megatron just asked for my expertise…_: He paused slightly, still submerged in disbelief, :…_on his _relationship_._:

* * *

><p>When Knockout had finally worked up the courage to reply to Lord Megatron's message, he'd already been hiding in the med bay, away from the tyrant, for almost a whole Earth week. Taking a deep cycle of air through his vents, he forced himself to sit still and commit to his task. After all, he could not hide in the med bay forever.<p>

"_Dear…uhh…Answer to No One,_"

He grimaced, and hurriedly typed onward before he lost his nerve again.

"_Please, I…meant absolutely no disrespect, none whatsoever! I am only here to serve, not to pry, and I assure you, my lord, that everything is strictly confidential. I am a medic, after all. And please, don't worry over the…other spectators. They can't possibly know of your identity, so your concerns will remain completely anonymous._

_As for your question, may I suggest a simple but effective remedy? Please excuse my…presumptuous idiocy if you have already attempted this, but perhaps a muffling device, such as a gag, would be of help. While such solution would not silence your partner altogether, it will lessen the volume to a much more tolerable level. I dare to assume that you are one to appreciate at least some vocal feedback while interfacing, and this is a great way to get the best out of the situation without unintentionally offending your partner._

_I know, I know, this is quite rudimentary and obvious. However, I have an even better solution for you! You see, I have a wide variety of gags that I've collected over the many vorns I worked as an on-site medic at a broadcasting station that produced highly creative interface simulations. There is one in particular I think you would enjoy immensely. Not only does it quiet the wearer, it keeps his mouth wide open and available as well. There is a one-way valve built into the gag, and…I don't think you need me to explain how to fully utilize this feature, hmm?_

_Signed,_

_Stay fabulous._

_~The Love Doctor_"

Knockout hit the submit button, and prayed to Primus for the first time in vorns that Lord Megatron would be appeased by this answer, and hence not attempt to ram the fusion cannon up his poor, perfect aft.

It most definitely would not fit no matter how accommodating his valve could be.

* * *

><p><span>Date<span>: Friday, xx/xx/xxxx, 3: 46 AM

Mood: Nervous.

Drinking: Breakdown's "knock-you-out" brew; it tingles.

Watching: out for fusion cannons.

"I really hope Answer to No One was not serious about the whole shoving the fusion cannon up my aft thing. He's been passing me by in the hallway a lot more frequently lately, and sometimes, I honestly don't know if he wants to rip me a new one or take up my offer.

…I'm a little scared.

…

…I think I leaked a little transmission fluid."

Hello-Ravage dislikes your post.

"\( o Д o )ﾉ" – Hello-Ravage (12 minutes ago)

"\( ó Д ò )ﾉ" – Hello-Ravage (10 minutes ago)

"/( Ó Д Ò )\" – Hello-Ravage (8 minutes ago)

"/(Q Д Q)\" – Hello-Ravage (6 minutes ago)

"/(TДT)\" – Hello-Ravage (4 minutes ago)

"\((o(;▲;)o))ﾉ" – Hello-Ravage (2 minutes ago)

"Stop it." – LoveFabulously (1 minute, 30 seconds ago)

"｡◕‿◕｡" – Hello-Ravage (56 seconds ago)

* * *

><p><strong>Note:<strong> I love Soundwave, haha! I took the idea of him talking in elaborate emoticons from a drawing by a (I think) Japanese artist, where he was displaying them on his faceplate screen. I had to use it. It was too amusing to pass up. However, I do find it annoying that FF's format does not allow a lot of symbols to be displayed, so I have to improvise.

Huge thanks to: _lildevchick_,_ Koluno1986_,_ CrazyNutSquirrel_,_ JaAm_,_ RobynRatz_,_ Mai Pintian_,and_ Hedgie-Chan_ for reviewing and dropping me a question! I had so much fun writing this chapter, and I really hope you found Knockout's answers amusing. XD

As you can probably tell, I've started to incorporate some inklings of plot. Feel free to expand on those!

I've been contemplating over how to organize this story, and I've come up with some ideas. Please let me know what you think of them!

Idea 1: At the end of each chapter, make a chart of what has happened in terms of plot and relationship progressions.

Idea 2: Keep consistent aliases for a portion of the characters (Soundwave is pretty much established as "Hello-Ravage", and I rather like Megatron as "Answer to No One" XD).

Idea 3: Have a limited time slot for question submissions (for example, 2-3 days after the latest chapter is posted) for canon characters, so there would be less chance of plot overlap. (I'm really hesitant about this one, so please let me know of your opinions on it.)

None of these are finalized, so, for now, please keep the questions coming whenever you like. :) Do drop me a few words about what you think of those ideas though, positive or negative. I'd love to hear your feedback.

Anyways, thanks for reading! And please give the nice, big, speech-bubble button at the bottom of the page a click. ;)


	3. 02

Disclaimer: Owning TF: Prime will forever remain wishful thinking. Such is life.

***Important Note*** – This story ignores the events of most recent TFP episodes, especially "Crossfire".

* * *

><p>"<em>Dear Love Fabulously,<em>

_Thank you! I think I just might drop all my normal activities in favour of admiring you as much as possible. Perhaps, once my drawing skills are up to the task, I shall attempt to draw your perfect self. I only hope I shall do a pleasing rendition._

_I know! That's exactly what I thought when I saw your gorgeous self._

_Signed,_

_CNS_"

Ahh, what better way to start a day than to read words of praise from his adoring followers? Knockout smiled indulgently, and took his sweet time in reveling under the worship.

"_Dear CNS,_

_Oh you most certainly should. After all, there is no greater endeavor in life than to appreciate what is beautiful._

_Glad we see optic to optic. *wink*_

_Signed,_

_Stay fabulous,_

_~The Love Doctor_"

More than satisfied that he had gained a loyal fan, Knockout sent his reply with a swift tap of a finger, and moved on to the next message.

"_Dear Love Fabulously,_

_Did you ever think of having kids? I'm not sure if I want them. Perhaps I'm just scared or not ready? I mean, they're adorable little things but... my love said that he  
>wants children and I don't want to disappoint. Umm…please help :(<em>

_Signed,_

_littlesweet_things_"

"Sweet Primus!" Knockout gasped, jolting backward in his chair. It was far too early in the cycle for talk of procreation and extension of one's genetic coding. Besides, if there were anything he knew of sparklings, or children in this human's case, it was that they were trouble, big trouble.

Hopefully he could manage to help this poor soul persuade his mate from a life of no recharge and no interface.

"_Dear littlesweet_things,_

_Let it be said that where I come from, sparklings are considered as scraplets with vocalizers that can and will put Starscream's to shame. They are nothing but a hindrance, especially to one's interface life. For the love of Primus, do not, I repeat, do not let your mate live with the misconception that having sparklings is a good idea._

_Because it's not._

_Ever._

_And how to best tell your mate it's not a good idea without puncturing his dream?_

_That's easy._

_You must have relatives with sparklings. Volunteer to sparkling-sit the loudest, most obnoxious one you can find, and make your mate do all the work since he's so keen on having a creation of his own._

_Just leave him with the thing, and watch the magic happen._

_Signed,_

_Stay fabulous,_

_~The Love Doctor_"

Very pleased with his pure ingenuity, he nodded to himself, and sent the message off before clicking the next one pending for him to read.

"_Dear Love Fabulously,_

_A truth which makes me even more appreciative of you sharing your heavenly visage with those who are not as fortunate in their looks._"

Ahh, another adoring fan! Knockout tilted his helm to peek at his attractive faceplate in the nearest reflective surface. "I know I say this a lot, babe," He winked at his reflection, "but you really are too dashing for your own good." Chuckling to himself, he took his time to brush off imaginary dust, and returned to his reading.

"_I look into Commander Starscream's things because despite his terrible taste in possessions (hardly anything red!), he's got a couple hidden gems. And without rooting around his things without permission, I'd have never found the brightest gem possible; your blog._

_Really? I was not aware of this rule. It sounds absolutely marvellous to me! Thank you for sharing your wisdom, because he seriously needs to lose tension. As for being disfigured, as far as his form goes, once he takes off the extra armor that makes him look normal, he's actually pretty curvy and has some attractive gaps in his plating. And he has a tentacle like Commander S- Hello-Ravage, if I'm guessing the identity right. And with his face, really, the only problem with it is that it's thinner, which doesn't look THAT bad, and his mouth is sorta shaped like a triangle. And his glossa is really thin. It's the only reason why he gets extra energon, he can get the last drops out of the corners._

_Thank you again for your expertise, all-knowing commander. I shall go and put it to use immediately!_

_Signed,_

_Tat of the red swirls_"

Hmmm, tentacles…

Knockout took a few breems to allow his processors to wander.

Perhaps he should proposition Soundwave with a casual frag or two.

With a delicious mental image in mind, Knockout grinned, and started to compose a quick response.

"_Dear Tat of the red swirls,_

_And here I thought this friend of yours had no redeeming qualities…_

_Tentacles? I can't believe you've waited for this long! Go get that mech, darling. You can never go wrong with extra appendages to fondle._

_Signed,_

_Stay fabulous,_

_~The Love Doctor_"

Well, that should be enough work for the cycle.

Knockout stretched in his chair, and twirled around a few times before hopping off from the seat. Sauntering over to the door, during the process of which he paused numerous times to admire his reflection, he decided to go find Breakdown. He did not know why Breakdown had stopped coming around the med bay when it was time for their daily dose of naughty romps in the berth, but he found little concern over the detail. It was not as though he had no legs to travel with. Besides, sneaking up on Breakdown and ravishing him senseless was much too fun to pass up.

With a devious plan forming in his processors, Knockout ventured out of the med bay, and went about his merry way to hunt down a certain big, blue mech.

* * *

><p>Knockout lounged beside his slumbering partner, reveling in the afterglow of a processor-blowing overload. He stretched languidly, and squirmed sensuously in the berth. With a content, satisfied smile, he turned on his side, and gazed at the big mech he has had the great pleasure of designating as his own. His optics dimmed to a warm flicker, and he pressed closer against his partner, fingers idly tracing the seams on a large arm.<p>

Breakdown shifted a little in his recharge, and murmured quietly. His engines sometimes rumbled in a soft murmur, and his plating was warm to the touch. Knockout's smile widened, and he felt a rather uncharacteristic surge of affection toward his partner. Feeling strangely cuddly, he wiggled to lie on top of the resting Decepticon, and embraced the broad shoulders he absolutely adored with much enthusiasm.

Sometimes, he was honestly surprised by how long he's been hanging around the big mech.

As though struck by lightning, Knockout immediately tensed rigid. His intakes hitched, and his optics onlined in a bright, abrupt flash, widened with shock. He hastily sat up, straddling his still sleeping partner, and took several kliks to calm his suddenly thumping spark. He stared down at Breakdown, at the faceplate he had so reverently cradled just breems before in midst of passion and pleasure, and felt a chill beginning to settle at the bottom of his fuel tank.

What in the pits was going on?

More than a little unsettled by how…affectionate he had been, Knockout quickly climbed off his partner, and slid off the berth. He ignored the way Breakdown groaned in slight protest at the loss of heat, and determinedly kept his faceplate forward as he left their chambers.

He left his shared berth-room with the big mech, and kept his neck cables firmly locked despite the strumming desire to look back.

With nowhere he particularly wanted to go to, Knockout slowly made his way to his medbay. Upon the closure of the door, separating him from the rest of the Nemesis, he took a deep cycle of air, and rubbed his faceplate with his hands. Confused and somewhat skittish, he sought distraction from his console, and accesses his blog page. Looking at the piling number of unanswered messages, he took a deep sigh through his vents, and quickly submerged himself in answering the calls of help from various flesh-creatures belonging to a world his lord was so keen on plundering.

"_Dear Love Fabulously,_

_I know, as a fleshling, I am unworthy of looking upon the awesomeness that you  
>are, but I must look upon you for the best advice I can find.<em>"

Well, if there was anything that could cheer him up, it was to receive utter worship well-deserved.

Knockout allowed a small smirk to lighten the broody expression on his faceplate, and felt a tiny bit better.

"_There is a person...A marvelous person, who hates my guts. I hate them too, but what can I do to make them fall for me so I can break their spark? What is the best  
>way to break their spark?<em>

_Signed,_

_Ninjabot version 3.0_"

Usually, Knockout would laugh at such deviousness, and congratulate the fleshling for coming up with an idea that he would have only expected from a Decepticon. However, for some odd reasons, he simply did not feel up for it, staring at the screen while a sensation unnervingly Autobot-like plagued his spark.

A rather unsightly scowl formed on his faceplate, and he cursed, forcefully pushing the sentiment down until it completely disappeared beneath the selfishness and the sheer need for delight in another's suffering. He might have been a medic, an occupation rumoured as being compassionate, but it was not as though he had voluntarily wanted to be one. Slamming down the urge to rekindle with unpleasant memory files, he steeled his resolve, and replied with a hurry much more desperate than simply being good at what he did. Hitting the "enter" key with much more force than necessary, he placed his elbows on the console, and leaned his helm forward against his hands. He took a breem or two just to breathe, and lifted his chin to look at the screen, which displayed his response, with a cold, darkened expression.

"_Dear Ninjabot,_

_You're in great luck, my dear. Love and hatred are one passion split by a line most easily crossed. If he hates you, it will be very simple to make him fall for you._

_One of the greatest weapons of being hated is that you already frequent his thoughts, much more often than what he'd probably prefer, and most often involuntary. It only takes one unpleasant encounter with you to ruin his day, and once you realize how powerful a weapon that is, he's as good as yours._

_The matter at hand is not to make him not despise you, but rather, how to trick his mind into thinking that perhaps there is more to his utter loathing than what he'd initially thought. Do not change your behaviour overnight. Treat him with as much maliciousness as you have always done. However, little by little, give him just enough exposure of good to make him question that perhaps you are worthy of redemption. Give him accidental insights to your vulnerabilities – vulnerabilities you don't actually have, fabricated to suit your purpose, and wait for him to show you his own._

_Once he does, all you'd have to do is to simply sit back, and watch him fall apart right in front of your optics._

_It is sweetness quite unlike any other – that I can assure you._

_Signed,_

_Stay fabulous,_

_~The Love Doctor_"

Knockout did not answer any more messages that night-cycle, and spent it in restless recharge on a cold, small cot instead.

* * *

><p>The morning came, and Knockout rose out of his slight funk from the previous night-cycle shiny and sassier than ever. Moments of doubt haunted even the most steadfast and strong, and Knockout was no exception. However, he has been alive long enough to realize that the next cycle did start anew, and that, despite how bad things could be, he'd eventually get over it.<p>

After getting his morning ration of energon, he plopped down on the chair in front of his console, and decided to check up on the rest of his messages. He had quite a few stacked up and waiting to be answered, so he chose one randomly, and sipped on his breakfast while he read the post.

"_Dear Love Fabulously,_

_I've been over in the sand in Afghanistan for 13 months now, and my girlfriend, the chick who I thought loved me sends me this video of her sucking off this dirty hobo who looked like he had been sticking needles in his arms for the last 3 weeks. I keep thinking about this and can't focus on anything but her and that nasty mofo in my house. If I don't get my mind off of her I probably will end up flying my osprey into a mountain. What should I do?_

_Signed,_

_USMCMV22_"

Knockout stared at the message, and felt an overwhelming wave of confusion cloud over his processors. Humans lived in sand? This fleshling's "girlfriend" was a ground-based avian? And what in the pits was a "mofo"?

There was only one way to find the solution to this mystery.

He forwarded the message to "Hello-Ravage", and moved on to the next question while waiting for an answer from the Decepticon communications officer.

"_Dear Love Fabulously,_"

The next message read:

"_I have a friend named Tat who's rather... distinctive among the rest of us drones_..._Recently, he keeps staring at me and grinning, or pulling me into dances. When I ask why, he says only that I'll be happy soon and so will someone else. The idea that he might be playing matchmaker is scaring the spark out of me. He's highly energetic, and very stubborn. His talent with making mods has me nervous, seeing as he might create something to bring me and whatever unfortunate individual he's chosen to be my partner together. Do you have any suggestions on how I could find HIM a partner so that he is suitably distracted from my own lack of a love-life? I think it's nice he's trying to help, but I don't relish the thought of being laughed at for my_..._unique frame._

_Thank you for your time, Commander. If you do not choose to respond, I understand. You are a busy mech after all, and have better to do than respond to every single drone that might wind up asking for advice._

_Signed,_

_Behind the Mask_

_P.S. Two things. First, there's another drone who I am pretty sure will comment. He's completely infatuated with Commander Starscream. Second, why do we have to make up a name to sign? I don't see why we don't just sign our own names. Is it so promised anonymity will encourage them to ask questions?_"

Oh come now, really? Why in the pits hasn't Tat simply berthed the poor mech yet?

Putting it down as drones being insufficient in the processing-power department, Knockout shook his helm, and composed a response.

"_Dear Behind the Mask,_

_Here's a thought: instead of finding him a partner, how about just _becoming_ his partner? You two obviously get along, so why not fool around? You have nothing to lose, but you _will_ lose the chance of having a good time if you don't do anything about it. Put those tentacles of yours to good use, and see if he'll bother you about not having a partner again._

_Signed,_

_Stay fabulous,_

_~The Love Doctor_

_Ps: Why are you drones so fascinated with Starscream? First the one who broke into his chambers, and now another's infatuated with him._

_Pps: Well, technically we are still at war, despite how stagnant it's become, so I suppose, for appearances's sakes, we should be discreet, no matter how transparent our disguises._"

Just as Knockout hit the "enter" key, he received a reply from "Hello-Ravage" with a translation to the encrypted Earthern message about the human who lived in sand dating a ground-based avian. Prompted to haste by curiosity, he quickly opened the message, and skimmed through its contents.

.

From: Hello-Ravage

To: LoveFabulously

Subject: Re: fwd: What in the pits is this squishy talking about?

Message:

Decryption as followed:

"_I've been deep in slag in the frontlines of battle site NBE-417 for more than a meta now, and my potential mate, the femme who I thought loved me, sends me this video file of her servicing this dirty scrapheap-crawler who looked like he had been dosing himself in viruses for the last 3 decas. I keep thinking about this and can't focus on anything but her and that nasty fragger in my living quarters. If I don't get my mind off of her I probably will end up flying nosecone first into an Iaconian high-rise. What should I do?_"

Decryption completed.

(o(*^w^*)o)/

Ps: Shipment of new medical equipments: status – incoming. Estimated time of arrival: zero-point-two-three joor from current standard time. Recommended course of action: discard all existing, non-recyclable equipment. Reason: Shipment large.

.

Ignoring the latter part of the message regarding actual work, Knockout nodded to himself. This made much more sense after Soundwave decoded it.

"_Dear USMCMV22,_

_As much as I sympathize with your situation,—"_

He really didn't.

"_-I can't help but wonder:_

_Did you honestly think this was going to work?_

_I mean, shame on her for inviting such an unappealing partner between her legs, but, based on what you've told me, she hasn't fragged for more than a meta. That's a very long time, darling. I can't even go without for more than a cycle._

_Now, now, no need to get crabby with me. At least hear me out._

_The first problem here is that you, for whatever reason, expected both of you to be without interface for however long a war is going to be. Why would you set such a painful goal for yourself? I find it hard to believe that you stayed celibate all this time. I mean, Breakdown gives me one pit of an overload, but there were times when he wasn't around. I certainly never expected him to withhold himself during those times, and he doesn't expect me to weld my valve closed either._

_Secondly, unless you're stuck on a ship and don't have enough rooms for everyone, never invite a berth-warmer into your living quarters for an extended stay. A night-cycle is fine, but come morning, he has to be gone! See, if you kept your, uhh…"chick" out of your quarters, then you wouldn't have to worry about disinfecting every surface in your room when you get back. Why make such trouble for yourself?_

_Comm. up a couple of friends. Kick the glitches out. Clean up your place, and stop implementing impossible goals. Why limit yourself to one partner? Have fun! I certainly do, and I've never tied myself down with anyone._

_Signed,_

_Stay fabulous,_

_~The Love Doctor_"

Seriously, the humans should erect a statue of him for doing such a great favour for them, teaching them the wise way of the Love Doctor. Knockout tapped the "send" button, and shook his helm with an exasperated sigh. The native creatures of this planet all seemed so fanatic to have a family unit when, really, they should be enjoying their pitifully short lives to the fullest. Putting their idiotic tendencies as being due to their lack of significance as a species, the medic took a stretch of his limbs, and contemplated doing some actual work, like making room in the medbay for those new medical equipments that were scheduled to arrive in…oh, seven breems. In the end though, he only lounged around, and surfed the internet for new products to use for his finish.

For beings that frankly lacked significance as a species, the humans were surprisingly resourceful when it came to pampering their automobiles.

* * *

><p>A recent Autobot attack at one of the mining posts had Knockout's hands full with repair work. Luckily, despite how devastating the surprise ambush was to the Nemesis' drone population, it happened so quickly that, by the time Knockout arrived at the battle site, the climax of the skirmish had already passed. The medic had only gotten a quick glimpse of Optimus' fine specimen of a shapely aft before the Autobot leader leapt into the swirling ground bridge, followed by his faithful lackeys. Knockout had sent a few shots after them just for appearance's sakes, and returned to the Nemesis completely scratch free.<p>

A stressful deca of medic work later, Knockout sat in front of his console, and checked on his blog. The messages were stacking up again, but there was one in particular that caught his attention. It was really not just one message, but three sent consecutively marked by the same signal source, though from different dates. Curious, the sports car decided to click on those first, and was surprised by how lengthy they collectively were.

.

"_Dear Love Fabulously,_

_You can tell our glorious leader that if he wants to interface, he can do it with a Vehicon, because this aft is now off limits!_

_And thanks for nothing!_

_Signed,_

_I should still be leader!_"

.

"_Dear Love Fabulously,_

_What is wrong with you! I have never been so completely humiliated. And this was without an audience! Do you hear me? This was, servos-down, the most traumatizing ordeal I have ever been put through. And it's all your fault! Does your depravity know no bounds? Do you exist solely for the sake of ruining what was once a perfectly fine relationship? I have half a processor to come down there and terminate you, or at the very least destroy that ridiculous thing you call a blog._

_I am your superior! How dare you suggest something as horrible as a gag! And worse yet, a gag with a valve built in! Do you have any idea how mortified I was when he used that? I didn't even have a say in the matter! He said he'd 'put my mouth to good use'. He could do that just by listening to my ideas! You didn't need to tell him to gag me! I am not a toy, slaggit! The next time you feel like giving some "sound advice", don't! Seriously, 'Love Doctor' my aft. Your relationship advice is as sound as your berth-side manner, which, let me tell you, is terrible! I swear to Primus, I'm going to—_

[word limit exceeded]

_Signed,_

_I fragging hate you!_"

.

"_Dear Love Fabulously,_

_I want a chance to be the dominant partner. Make it happen._

_Signed,_

_I still hate you and I should still be leader._"

.

Well, well, well, Knockout lifted an elegant brow-ridge. Of course Starscream would toss his advice back in his faceplate. Can't say he didn't anticipate it. The medic rolled his optics, and decided to have a little fun with the easily agitated Seeker.

Starscream was much too hilarious when teased in the right manner, and what was even better was that the air commander was too far away to come charging like a rabid scraplet at Knockout's finish!

"_Dear You-Should-Most-Definitely-Not-be-Leader,_

_With all due respect, commander, it's not _my_ problem if you failed to follow my advice. I told you to tie him up, but _you_ obviously got tied up instead. I cannot guarantee what would happen if you don't follow my suggestions._

_Besides, what was I supposed to do? Your mate threatened me with a fusion cannon, and this valve would like to remain fusion cannon free._

_Where did he even get the idea of shoving his cannon up there anyways? What in the pits have the two of you been doing that would—_

…_Ooh, how kinky!_

_Commander! I had no idea you had it in you! (And you probably did "have it in you", if you know what I mean~ *wink, wink*)_

_Perhaps I should show our mighty lord what else I have hidden in the medbay closets, hmm? If you can handle the fusion cannon, I'm sure you can handle anything._

_Signed,_

_Stay fabulous_

_~The Love Doctor_

_Ps: If you want to be the dominant partner for once, you should probably elope with someone else for a night cycle because it's definitely not gonna happen with your mate, love._

_Pps: Or you could…oh I don't know…actually follow my advice and tie_ him _up?_"

Snickering to himself, Knockout sent the reply, and spent a few kliks swirling in his chair just for the kicks. As much as the danger of Lord Megatron stumbling across this response frightened him, a chance to make Starscream bristle with indignant embarrassment was too great to pass. The Seeker should really just accept his fate as a valve-mech. With legs like those, it was simply all too easy to pry them apart and render them quivering with need.

…Damn, that sounded hot.

Knockout stopped his chair spinning, and pushed off from his seat.

Time to find Breakdown, or perhaps Soundwave.

Hmm…tentacles…

Soundwave it is!

* * *

><p>Knockout let out a snort, a very rare sound for one as graceful as he was, as he stared at the message displayed on the screen. He usually refrained from making such unflattering noises, but he's been rather cranky lately, so he felt it justified to adequately express himself.<p>

The main reason for his somewhat sour mood was Soundwave, who was proving to be quite a difficult chase. The communications officer was exceptionally good at being a tease and then slinking off at the last breem with some obviously fabricated but legitimate-sounding reason. Knockout had tried to be optimistic in telling himself that at least Soundwave seemed to be interested, but he was more than a little irritated when he was supposed to be the one doing the teasing and not the other way around. Instead of having himself some tentacles, he had to settle with just Breakdown, which would have been fine had he not wanted some variety in his berth life.

In all, – Knockout huffed – he was in great need of some excitement in the interface department, excitement that involved more than just a good banging and a big spike that he had grown all too familiar with.

"Hey, Breakdown, come here and look at this," He called for his partner, and let out a scoffing laugh. "Someone's obviously got issues." He gestured at the lines of text on the screen, and flicked his wrist in a careless manner.

"Oh…is-is that so…?" Breakdown strode up to the console, and, oddly enough, sounded almost nervous. However, Knockout barely took notice, being too busy grimacing in obvious distaste at the poor bloke who, very apparently, did not understand even the fundaments of a successful relationship.

"_Dear Love Doctor,_"

The message read:

"_There's a mech that I'm more than a little fond of, but I don't think I'll ever be anything more than a good frag to him. I don't want to hold him back, but at the same time, I want him to be mine and mine alone. Should I just be content with what I have or should I try to seek more from him?_

_Signed,_

_Big and Blue_"

"What in the pits am I supposed to do with this?" Knockout waved rather irately at the screen. "Everyone knows the whole reason relationships don't work out is because of high expectations. The less you expect out of a partner, the better things will be, simple as that."

For a long moment, Breakdown did not reply.

"Is…that so…" Came a quiet murmur, and Knockout, frowning, inclined his helm toward his partner.

"Well, of course!" He spoke much more snappishly than what the situation deserved, but he was too irritated to care, "What else have I been saying to these imbeciles? No matter how many times I try to drill it into their thick helms that you can't force someone to be with you, they still don't get it!" Tilting toward the bigger mech, Knockout gestured between them. "I mean, look at _us_, Breakie. We've been together for vorns now. We fight well together. The interface is sufficient for the most part. We did all of this because we don't have all that emotional scrap. Such baggage is not good for the libido."

Breakdown seemed to jolt as though something had stung him on the aft. He did not reply, for a moment only staring back at Knockout before averting his optics. His lips pressed tightly together, and he slowly nodded with a heaviness the medic did not understand. However, instead of wasting his time deciphering such odd behaviour, Knockout turned around in his chair, and started to compose a response to the message undeserving of such ire.

"_Dear Big and Blue,_

_Look, I don't know which idiot got it into your processors that you gotta stick with every tight little valve you come across, but he is wrong. Very, very wrong. The less you invest into a relationship, the less dependent you are, and the less dependent you are, the happier you'll be. Trust me on this, sweet spark – I didn't get to where I am by being a sentimental little Autobot._

_Now, if your mech's not sticking around with you, the fragging's obviously not good enough. If you want him as yours, ravish him so hard that he'd never wanna leave the berth. You can't get lazy just 'cause you're big, babe. You gotta refuel the flame, and spice things up a little. Nothing keeps a lover quite like a mech who knows how to creatively use his spike._

_But then again, variety _is_ the spice of life. Perhaps it's you who need to lighten up and find more bots to share your berth with._

_Signed,_

_Stay fabulous,_

_~The Love Doctor_"

Sighing deeply, Knockout sent the message, and leaned back in his chair. "Hopefully, this'll clear things up for the poor, confused bot," He spoke without actual concern for the aforementioned poor, confused bot, and waited for his partner to reply. When no verbal response came, he turned around, wondering what Breakdown could be doing that was more important than answering his commentary. He turned around, but only saw an empty medbay, one devoid of the familiar sight of one big, blue ground-pounder.

Breakdown had left, silently, without a word, and not even about where he was going.

Knockout frowned, but eventually, he simply shrugged.

Breakdown was prone to suffer sulky episodes, which went away after a joor or two. On the meantime, Knockout decided as he hopped off from the chair, there were more important matters that needed taking care of.

…Matters such as showing a certain "Hello-Ravage" just who the Love Doctor on the Nemesis was.

* * *

><p>Okay, so Soundwave was sneakier than Knockout had expected.<p>

After upping his efforts in trying to berth the notoriously silent Decepticon third-in-command, Knockout had suddenly found himself with no target to go after. Soundwave had practically disappeared, answering only to messages via the blog site, and seemed to be quite keen on making Knockout work for those tentacles of his.

After a rather unfruitful conversation involving mostly undecipherable symbols as replies, Knockout was just about to give up and go do something else when a notification popped up from his blog message center. Not expecting much, he opened it without much thought, and almost fell out of his chair when he found out just who had sent the message, and what it was about.

"_Dear Love Fabulously,_"

The message started out innocently enough.

"_I would like to thank you for your advice, and in helping me notice that perhaps I do have more options than I originally realized. The only alone time I get is __when I am on patrol, week day evenings, in the middle of the desert, sheltered by the rocks._

_Alone._

_And no one else regulates that area._

_Just informing you of that._

_See you soon._

_Signed,_

_Sweet-Rims._"

Primus must have loved him after all. Knockout grinned, and instantly typed up a brief response before leaping off the chair and dashing out of the medbay, grabbing his energon prob along the way.

"_Dear Sweetie-Rims,_

_I'll be there._

_Muah-muahz!_

_Signed,_

_Stay Fabulous_

_~The Love Doctor_"

With Optimus Prime prominent on his processors, Knockout completely forgot about his date a joor from now with a certain big and blue, and raced toward the ground bridge.

* * *

><p>"That…was…<em>amazing<em>…!"

Knockout collapsed to the ground, circuits buzzing with lingering charge and chassis heaving as his cooling fans cycled in very audible whirrs. He grinned stupidly at the rocky ceiling of the cave, and did not even care that he was lying on dusty, rough terrain that could leave very hideous scratches on his paintjob. All he cared about at that moment was the tingling of overload still fresh on his systems, and that the heated frame lying right next to him was also strumming with contentment and pleasure.

"…I must concur," The deep, soothing voice of Optimus Prime answered him, accompanied by the low, soft rumble of a powerful engine. "I never knew an energon prob could be utilized in so many ways prior to our…rendezvous."

Knockout chuckled, and lazily rolled onto his side before curling around a strong, red arm. He stroked the smooth, warm plating, and nuzzled close, reminiscing with great glee of how he had singlehandedly rendered the leader of the Autobots into a molten pool of writhing desire and naked, carnal need. Oh the sight had been delicious…The Prime spread out in front of him, fingers digging into rocky ground and cables straining to move against the convenient aftereffects of the energon prob. It would have been so easy to kill him then, to plunge in and rip out the spark Lord Megatron himself has had such a difficult time in snuffing. However, the way those blue optics pierced through the dark of the cave in such heated, almost feral abandon, the way the rigid composure fell apart and became so thoroughly undone…

How could Knockout allow himself to take away such a beauty from existence?

Besides, there was no way in the pits he was denying himself a ride on that gorgeous, _gorgeous_ spike.

Hmm…speaking of that spike, with its majestic arch and blistering heat, Knockout really wouldn't mind having a second round, or a third, or a fourth…

Licking his lips, the medic was just about to crawl back into the Prime's lap when the Autobot leader shifted, and turned toward him with a slight frown on his faceplate. He looked as though he was troubled or confused about something, and Knockout simply stared, momentarily captivated and taken back by how utterly naive the expression was. Sweet Primus, without the facemask, the Prime looked downright innocent, all wide optics and pursed lips.

…Now what he wouldn't give to kiss those lips again…

"Knockout, there is…something I wish to speak to you about."

Knockout shook his helm clear of its processor-numbing haze, and snapped his unhinged jaw shut from his blatantly gawking at the prime's lips.

"Yes, beautiful?" He murmured sensuously, and trailed a hand down the red chassis, from smooth, cool windshields to blue hip-plating. Optimus immediately flushed, an adorable reaction that almost made Knockout giggle, and tried to muffle the sound of his cooling fans enthusiastically activating by squirming on the ground.

"…I apologize for disturbing the moment," The Prime spoke on, and seemed determined to ignore the way his intakes hitched when Knockout's nimble fingers easily found sensitive equipment. "But the matter I wish to speak to you about has been bothering me to a significant enough degree that I believe it imperative to ask of your advice."

Knockout instantly stopped his suggestive exploration, and pushed to sit up a bit higher. He peered down at the Autobot leader with a frown, and lifted a brow-ridge in an inquisitive manner.

Optimus' optics flickered dartingly in the dark shadows of the cave, and he slowly rose from his prone position to sit up as well.

"You see…" He began, looking quite awkward as he glanced at Knockout in an undecided manner, "For the past few Earth weeks, I have been…meticulously followed by a certain individual…"

Knockout frowned.

"What do you mean?" The medic asked.

"At first, I thought it was merely a tactic employed to unsettle my troops and I," The Prime explained, optics gaining a perplexed shimmer. "However, I later found out that no other Autobot has been having this problem aside from myself. I've since then attempted to communicate with the perpetrator of this strange incident, to ask him why he persists to follow me around when he has yet made any attempts to attack me. Unfortunately, my efforts fell to deaf audials, and gained me no answers, so I can only assume that perhaps the reason for his strange behaviour is only accessible to an insider."

Knockout was a little startled when Optimus fixed him with a rather intense gaze, and was more than a little shocked when the Autobot leader continued his explanation:

"Megatron has been tailing me outside of battle, appearing suddenly and leaving without announcement or hostility. He has yet spoken a word to me, despite my numerous attempts to excite a response. He hasn't even once transformed out of his alt-mode during his impromptu visits, flying away instead of engaging me when I partake in defensive maneuvers. Frankly, I'm not sure what I should do, so I thought that perhaps you would at least know why, if not how I should deal with this problem."

Knockout had no idea why Optimus thought he'd have any idea of why Lord Megatron did anything he did, as Knockout has never been exactly close to his leader. The medbay was not a place the Decepticon tyrant frequented, so Knockout rarely saw him outside of making various reports, occasions which have lessened as of late due to lack of activity on the war front. However, one did not need to be close with Lord Megatron to know that it was really quite uncharacteristic of him to stalk the enemy faction's leader without at least firing a few shots.

What in the pits was going on?

"…I was…under the impression that Megatron is…well…_involved_…with Starscream." The Prime's words broke Knockout from his contemplation, and the medic turned, a slight gape in his optics at the fact that he was being spoken to by an Autobot about Decepticon inner squabbles. "From what I know, Starscream has yet broken his silence and returned to the Nemesis," Optimus continued steadfastly, "so I'd thought that Megatron might have attributed his disappearance to an Autobot doing. However, it's become clear to me that Megatron simply wishes to—…well…" To Knockout's surprise, the great Optimus Prime actually started to squirm in obvious discomfort.

"Well…what?" The medic prompted carefully when the Prime did not speak on right away, and was downright flabbergasted when the leader of the Autobots, arch-nemesis of Lord Megatron the slag-maker, looked away as though too embarrassed to keep his gaze.

"…There was this one time, in battle…" Optimus answered slowly, and his cheek-plates distinctly darkened in a blush, "where he—…behaved in a manner most inappropriate for the given circumstances."

"…And what do you mean by that?" Knockout had a very strong feeling that he did not want to know, but he asked anyways, simply because it was hard to not do so when juicy gossip was involved.

"He…well…" The Prime spluttered, and his cheek-plates were practically aflame with embarrassment. "…He flirted with me…" He finished with a half-mumble, and Knockout thought his processors had glitched due to the overwhelming overload he'd just had breems prior, thus causing him to hallucinate.

…Aww pits…

Knockout grimaced.

Slag was going down when Starscream finds out about his deviating mate.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong> Thanks so much for your submissions and support! Major shout-outs to my lovely reviewers: _lildevchick _(who is especially awesome for helping me so much with this story)_, CrazyNutSquirrel, lohas, RobynRatz, Hedgie-Chan, 14FlashSteps, codythedude, ninja school dropout, PwnKage, Koluno1986, DemonQueen007, LadyBonBon, and Mai Pintian_. You truly make this story possible. :)

As some of you might have noticed, I did not include all submissions sent for this chapter. It's not that they were not good (I'm very thankful that you'd decided to take the time to write out a question/response to Knockout). It's just that I had to cut out certain things to either keep the plot congruent, or to be consistent with some guidelines I will explain as below.

(This is important. **PLEASE READ!**)

I've been putting some thoughts into how to organize this story, and I've come up with some clarifications. They are as followed:

Maximum number of submissions per chapter: 2 per person

Submission length: 300-400 words. (You are more than welcomed to expand on your question or commentaries, but please keep it no more than such. If you are unsure of how long approximately 300 words are, please refer to Starscream's post.)

OCs: Outside of random humans on the internet, I've decided to keep this fic OC free (sorry about that!). I would like to have only canon characters as Cybertronian participants, with the exception of Steve the drone, who's been established enough in the fandom to be excused.

Cut-Off Point per chapter: 20 questions/submissions. (So the chapters don't end up being extremely long XD) However, this does not mean you cannot keep sending things in. It just means I might not be able to get to it right away. If a question/submission contradicts with already established plot-lines, I will not be able to use it, so please keep an eye out for what's been happening in the story.

So what _has_ been happening in the story? Well, in summary:

- Knockout and Breakdown are friends with benefits

- Starscream and Megatron are in an established relationship, though they're currently pretending to not give a damn about each other

- Knockout has a new goal of scoring Soundwave, though his efforts have yet yielded significant result

- Soundwave does not seem adverse to Knockout's advances, but it might be possible that he simply enjoys the chase

- Breakdown has started to question his relationship with Knockout, but Knockout fails to see the problem existing between the two of them

- Optimus Prime met Knockout for the first time on their secret rendezvous, and confessed that Megatron has been bothering him for reasons unknown

- Starsrcream continues to be rogue, unaware of Megatron's new-found fascination in stalking Optimus

Well, that's all I have to say. Sorry about how long this ending note is – it'll be shorter in the future! If you've read thus far, thank you for being patient in hearing me out!

Please leave Knockout a question or two, and help me carry on this story. Your participation is much appreciated. :D


	4. 03

Disclaimer: Must I remind myself that I do not own the TFs every time I submit a chapter? D;

* * *

><p>Three decas have passed since the cycle Soundwave sent him the invitation to this "Blogger's" website, and Knockout has gained a total of one hundred and thirty two followers. His blog was flourishing with humans showering him with praise and devotion, and helpless souls continued to plead for his expertise.<p>

Overall, life was good.

There were skirmishes here and there with the Autobots, but Optimus Prime was too busy avoiding Lord Megatron's advances and playing batty optics with Knockout to offer much fight. Soundwave had stopped his disappearing act, and even allowed Knockout to sidle up to him this one time on the bridge before skittering away with some excuse or another. Breakdown seemed to be rather distracted lately, but it was hardly important enough for Knockout to worry over. If his partner didn't feel like a romp in the berth, Knockout had other options, so it really didn't matter all that much to the flashy sports-car.

Besides, he had other things to occupy his time with now, such as replying to messages from his blog – an activity that's become quite addictive.

"_Dear Love Fabulously,_"

The first message read,

"_YOU = AWESOME. STAY FABULOUSLY YOU BADASS MECH._

_Signed,_

_Mechboyxoxo_"

Ahh, with sweet words such as these, how can one not become addicted?

"_Dear Mechboyxoxo,_

_Yes, that I am, and yes, I will always be fabulous, baby._

_Signed,_

_Stay fabulous_

_~The Love Doctor_"

Humming a little tune to himself, Knockout sent the reply, and moved on to the next message.

"_Dear Love Fabulously,_

_I've been with one person for a while and uh, well...I would rather like to try bondage buuuuut I'm not sure how they would take it._

_Any suggestions?_

_Sighed,_

_Anon_"

Ooooh, bondage, hmm? Knockout smiled. That brought up all kinds of pleasant recollections from his memory bank.

"_Dear Anon,_

_How far have you gone with your partner? What's the craziest thing you've done together as far as interfacing goes?_

_How willing your partner is toward bondage all depends on how he is as a person, sweet spark. Does he enjoy being dominated? Does he become aroused when roughly handled? In my personal opinion, everyone is capable of appreciating the nuances of bondage. When I first started fooling around with Breakie, he'd balk at even the slightest indication of being tied up. After a little high-grade and some clever persuasion, however…Let's just say nothing quite gets his engines going than when I take out the paddle. *wink*_

_If you can offer the right incentive, you can get him to do anything._

_Signed,_

_Stay fabulous_

_~The Love Doctor_"

Ahh, Breakdown was such an enticing site, all roped up immobile and spike glistening with beads of transfluid…

Mmm, yummy!

Knockout licked his lips, and felt his interface panel warm.

Okay, one last question before his afternoon frag.

"_Dear Love Fabulously,  
>Out of curiosity, have you always been red, or was red a colour you changed<em>

_to? I've been picturing you with various other colours and find you look just as beautiful in all of them, though red does stick out more than the others._

_Also, what is your favourite solo experience? Do you race, for example?_

_Signed,_

_CNS_"

Solo experience? What, like self-servicing?

Knockout quirked his helm to the side in slight confusion.

What does self-servicing have to do with—

-Oh, wait.

Well…in that case…

Knockout grinned, a devious glint brightening his optics, and reached for the keyboard.

"_Dear CNS,_

_Why of course red sticks out more than the others – it's the perfect colour for me! I _have_ worn other paintjobs over the vorns, but I plan on sticking with red._

_My favourite solo experience, hmm? Well, I've had plenty, but since you specifically inquired about racing, I will satiate your curiosity by recounting one incident that I am rather fond of._

_Not long after I'd arrived on this planet, I took quite an interest in showing the native species what real speed truly means. I don't race the pitiful organics often, but when I do, I always win. There was this one time when one of the competitors, in realization that I was about to leave him in the dust, attempted to ram me off the road. He didn't succeed, of course, but the impact left a most horrendous, unsightly scratch on the side of my alt-mode. As you can imagine, I did not take kindly to that._

_So I transformed, disabled his automobile with my energon prod, and proceeded to pleasure myself atop his vehicle with him still in it._

_It was quite the thrilling experience – that, I can assure you._

_Perhaps I should do it again._

_Signed,_

_Stay fabulous_

_~The Love Doctor_"

All this talk of interfacing was really getting him hot and bothered. Giving his heated panel a lascivious rub, he hopped off from his chair, and hurriedly made for the door. Vents cycling air with an audible whirr, he left the med bay, and went about his way to find his always-willing frag partner. With nothing important scheduled for the cycle, he was sure no one would miss him or Breakdown if the two of them were to simply disappear for a joor or two.

Perhaps it was time to take out that paddle again…

With delicious, lewd thoughts swimming around in his processors, Knockout quickly ventured toward his shared quarters with Breakdown, valve already tingling with the telltale signs of sticky lubricant.

* * *

><p>As it turned out, Breakdown was nowhere to be found. He was not on the Nemesis, and he did not answer Knockout when the medic tried the comm.. It wasn't until the frisky sports-car stumbled upon Dreadwing did he find out where his big blue had gone.<p>

"Breakdown traded patrol with me," The large Seeker said, and gave him an odd look when he seethed and cursed under his breath.

What in the pits was Breakdown thinking, trading patrol like that? He _knew_ this was when their afternoon interface sessions were!

"…Did you…need him for something?" Dreadwing's voice snapped Knockout out of his frustrated ponderings, and the medic startled a little, helm jerking upward. He was just about to snarl at the Seeker to mind his own business when he realized, quite abruptly, that Dreadwing was…well, not bad looking.

Sure, he wasn't as fraggable as Starscream as far as Seekers went, but he had nice, broad shoulders, and a pair of wings that Knockout knew had to be exceptionally sensitive and fun to fondle. He was also conveniently big and blue.

Knockout smiled, the gesture lacking any and all good intentions.

Dreadwing will do.

"Say, Dreadwing _darling_," Voice all suave and purring, the medic sidled up to the large flier, and wrapped his dainty little hands around the Seeker's upper arm. "You don't happen to be doing anything at the moment, do you?"

Dreadwing visibly stiffened, and he looked almost wary.

"…No…?" He answered carefully, glancing back and forth between the hands on his arm and the deviously grinning medic.

"Oh good," Knockout cooed, and slowly pressed every inch of his hot, attractive frame against the Seeker's smooth side, "Because _you_ haven't had a single checkup since you'd arrived on the Nemesis."

With a pull that belied more strength than what anyone would expect from his petit arms, Knockout led a slightly confused Dreadwing toward the med bay, engines rumbling in appreciation at how the Seeker's wings twitched in an unintentionally seductive dance. "We can't allow an important addition to our ranks to wander without proper medical care now, can we?" Expression abundant with mischief and desire, he murmured sensuously, and leaned so close that he was certain the large flier could feel the heat rolling off in waves from his interface panel.

At last, Dreadwing understood the subtext of his words. While he did not seem to find intimate relations appropriate between patient and medic (wearing a frown and such), he never actively protested, and simply let the sports-car tug him along. Very pleased with the development, Knockout chuckled, and gave the Seeker's aft a fond pat.

"I'll have you know, Dreadwing," He spoke softly, voice a heated whisper, "I've had enough fliers as lovers to know where _all_ the hotspots are."

With a wink and a teasing tweak of a tailfin, the medic sauntered off with his newest catch, and never thought for even a klik that what he was doing would have lasting consequences.

* * *

><p>Just as Knockout expected, Dreadwing was quite an energetic romp in the berth. If allowed to take the reins, all Seekers tended to be rather aggressive and exceptionally enthusiastic when their wings were pinched the right way. If there was any misplaced reservation Dreadwing had toward bedding Knockout, it was sure as the pits gone now.<p>

"I thought you and Breakdown were an item," He had mumbled hesitantly amidst the noises of panting vents and low utterances of pleasure.

"Is that what he told you?" Knockout rolled his optics at the same time he rolled his hips, intakes hitching when the angle was just right to hit his topmost sensors. "Breakdown tends to confuse other bots by telling them we're partners." A particularly hard thrust made him pause to let out an eager keen, and he grappled at the Seeker's wings. "We _are_ partners," He finally answered breathlessly, "just not the kind you think."

And that was that.

Dreadwing had not stayed after their rigorous frag. As soon as he recovered enough to walk with some resemblance of steadiness, the large flier had left for his quarters, saying something or another about using the wash-racks. Knockout had forgotten how obsessed Seekers were with staying clean, but he'd only shrugged, deciding that it was probably better this way. Small talk after interface was always awkward, except for with Breakdown. The blue grounder seemed to love to cuddle, and he was more than content to listen to Knockout glorify his boundless prowess in the art of…well, everything.

Speaking of Breakdown, it _did_ feel a bit strange, not lying in berth with a warm, strumming chassis next to his own for a joor or two after the tingles of overload had run its course. Suddenly feeling a little sullen, Knockout decided to check on his blog, in hopes that it would distract him from his undesirable mood. He was getting too used to the big guy, too familiar with one specific mech. It was probably good that he'd fragged Dreadwing. Getting accidentally attached was the last thing the medic wanted or needed.

Shaking his helm clear of thoughts he really did not want to have, Knockout opened the first message, dated from a cycle prior, and leaned his cheek-plate against a propped up hand as he read.

"_Dear Love Fabulously,_

_I think I understand what you're saying. It's basically, use him or lose him, right? Sorry, but that's stupid. A relationship should be built on trust and understanding, right? Not just on how good a frag someone is...I'm not really sure what to do with the advice you've given me. But, for the time being, I'll give the mech who currently holds my affection a wide berth while I think my options over. It's become apparent to me that I'm just common. I was lead to believe I was important, special even, but perhaps I've simply been looking for something that was never there._

_Thank you for opening my eyes just a little more. Hopefully, with some thought, soon I'll be able to see a little better._

_Signed,_

_Big and Blue_"

Knockout stared at the message.

…and stared.

…and stared.

…and promptly burst out laughing.

He laughed so hard that he almost fell out of his chair, doubling over and holding his midsection. He had to physically restrain himself from glancing back at the screen in case he lost it again.

Seriously? Trust and understanding? What was this mech, some sappy little Autobot? Actually, now that Knockout thought about it, that might explain a few things. Only an Autobot can spew out such ridiculous slag without keeling over in hilarity and embarrassment.

Wondering which Autobot this "big and blue" was, Knockout chuckled a bit more, and proceeded to answer the message just for fun. Primus, he felt offended just looking at the thing.

"_Dear Big and Blue,_

'_Use him or lose him'? I like that. It sums up your situation perfectly, and the fact that you don't seem to realize it greatly amuses me._

_Look, big blue, trust and understanding are fabrications made up by weak-sparked mechlings misguided by the silly, unrealistic stories we've all been told when we were too young to know any better. You can't rely on those things. Now, a good frag, on the other hand – _that _i_s_ something you can hold on to._

_Come now, no need to feel bad for being common and unimportant. Not everyone can be special. Look on the bright side: at least you've realized your shortcomings. That's the first step in finding a relationship that actually functions for you._

_Best of luck to you, darling! Remember to not complicate things with all this emotional scrap, and you'll be fine. Promise._

_Signed,_

_Stay fabulous_

_~The Love Doctor_"

Humming an upbeat little tune, Knockout sent the message off, and quickly moved on to the next one.

"_Dear Love Fabulously,_

_I am just going to go straight to the point._

_I am very attractive, and I am able to berth most of the ones I am after. Except one. This cute little Mech. He is a little shorter than me, more lithe, beautiful. He is very intelligent, and he has changed me. Normally I never blunder on about one mech, no no no. Normally I go around fragging my spark out, yet this particular mech...I can't become aroused unless I imagine him. I never take much note of my partners...but I know this guy's favorite color, time of day, what he is scared of and what he prides himself in._

_I think I am in love. I have never...ever been in love before! Help!_

_Signed,_

_Sexy_Beast_"

As proficient as this "Sexy Beast" claimed to be, he seemed to have met his match. Tapping absentmindedly at his chin, Knockout thought long and hard about this anonymous mech's situation, and found himself reviewing memory files of his first encounters with Breakdown.

Breakdown was quite hard to catch, having belonged to a tight unit that was notorious for being unruly, crass, violent, and downright insane even by Decepticon standards, which was really saying something. Knockout never really understood why the big mech was so close-knit with such a group, and Breakdown was never too keen on discussing it, so the medic did not push. After all, he did not need to know the life history of every mech he frag, and he was never that curious. He was just glad Breakdown ultimately chose to become his assistant instead of sticking around with that crazy bunch. Primus knew Knockout was much better company than those other mechs anyways, especially that Motormaster. It took the sports-car an entire deca to fix all the damage his partner sustained after being beaten into a pulp for deciding to leave the Stunticons for a "dirty little whore".

A whore? Probably. Little? That's relative. However, one thing was for sure.

Knockout was definitely not dirty in any way.

Shaking his helm clear of thoughts, the medic sighed, and rubbed his faceplate. Why did he keep thinking about Breakdown? It was not the end of the universe that the big guy forgot about an afternoon interface. Repeatedly telling himself such, Knockout reached for the keyboard, and proceeded to compose a response.

"_Dear Sexy_Beast,_

_Since you seem like a straightforward kinda mech, I'll just be blunt._

_Don't let his beauty fool you into thinking that you actually gave a damn about him._

_When it comes down to it, sweet spark, he's just like any other bot you've fragged – a tight little valve you want to plunge into and savour for a while before moving onto something else that's caught your optics._

_Now, don't freak out just 'cause you're noticing various things about him that you'd never done for any other hot little ports before. Some valves are easy to get into. Some are not. It's normal to use different strategies for different cases, and just because you're not used to this particular tactic doesn't mean it's any more or any less than all the other mechs you've berthed._

_Play up the charm. Flash him a few glimpses of the goods. Even act like you cared if it'd seal the deal. Just remember:_

_You don't love him. Love doesn't exist._

_He's just a real pretty one, and if that's enough for you to stick around for a little bit, why the pits not?_

_Doesn't hurt to keep that tight little valve for a while if you really like fragging it._

_Signed,_

_Stay fabulous_

_~The Love Doctor_"

Knockout hesitated before sending the response.

He did not know why, but it did not quite sit well with him.

It sounded…_bitter_ somehow…awfully tactless, and downright crude – characteristics that did not usually summarize his style of seducing whichever mech that's met his fancy. Sure, there were times when he played the slut, but those times were rare, and they only happened because he'd wanted a mech who liked a slut. Such encounters never lasted long, anyways, so it was safe to say that, while he might've been with many partners, Knockout was a well-versed connoisseur, not a desperate, tasteless harlot.

He did not do tactless.

He did not do crude.

He was never bitter, so why? Why did these words look so foreign, as though they were not of his own?

He ended up sending the reply anyways, and heaved a deep sigh after he did. He leaned back in his chair, and spent the next several breems simply staring at the screen of the console, feeling strangely down and confused. He sent Breakdown another ping through comm., and frowned when his spark throbbed in dejection at the lack of response from the big guy. Quickly deciding that he was being much too unlike himself to his liking, he forcefully pushed himself off his chair, and briskly made his way out of the med-bay. He could hardly believe he was bold enough to do this, but he walked determinedly toward the central bridge of the Nemesis regardless.

Knockout needed something to do, and there was always something Lord Megatron wanted to be done.

* * *

><p>Knockout ended up with boring inventory work, cataloguing all the new medical equipments that came in with that shipping from Primus knew how long ago. Lord Megatron, upon being asked if there was anything the medic could do for him, actually paused in hesitation with his mouth slightly parted. In the end, the tyrant only grunted out some answer that sounded more on-the-whim than what he had actually wanted to say, and sent the sports-car away without much of a dismissal. Knockout, more than a little alarmed, hastily scurried out of the bridge before the ex-gladiator could realize that he'd stumbled in front of a subordinate. Who knows what would happen should the Decepticon commander take notice of his blunder?<p>

Besides, _Lord Megatron_ pausing in speech out of hesitation to ask what he'd wanted? What in the pits was the world coming to?

After the last of the equipments was logged into the console, Knockout sagged against his chair, and promptly decided that he'd done enough work to earn him a whole deca-cycle of free time. When Breakdown remained mysteriously unresponsive through comm., the medic let out a frustrated huff, and went on to distract himself with the human internet. Without even a single thought, he signed in to his account on Blogger's, and smiled a little when he saw that thirty-five more fleshlings had subscribed to become his follower. Feeling minutely better, he checked on his messages, and immediately encountered a familiar sender.

"_Dear You self-serving aft!_"

Awww.

"_I followed your advice to the letter! It's not my fault that Megatron is so ridiculously strong he broke right through his bonds. And don't you think for one klik that just because I am not currently residing on the Nemesis that I can't come up there and do horribly unpleasant things to you. And I promise you, Megatron wouldn't even care! If anything, he would ignore your sparking remains and simply be happy to know that I am once more present on his drab little warship! And another thing! How dare you insinuate that he's ever used his fusion cannon to...how dare you! As if I'd ever let him! I am not elastic!_

_Hmm, find someone else, huh? I'm sure I could find another bot more than willing to let me dominate for a change. Thanks for the advice...doctor. Perhaps I'll even let Megatron know what your latest suggestion is. I'm sure he'd love to know that you're giving me such excellent advice._

_Signed,_

_Oh slag this. It's Starscream. Everyone knows it's Starscream. This signature thing is slagging stupid!_"

Really…Knockout scoffed with a curt huff from his vents, it was quite sad how difficult it was for him to respect Starscream even when the Seeker was trying to threaten him with the wrath of his Lord Megatron. For being the second-in-command of a fearsome faction of evildoers, Starscream was awfully keen on acting, well, like a prissy, petty little glitch. No wonder no one really took him seriously, not even his own mate.

Knockout rolled his optics, and composed a response.

"_Dearest Oh-Screaming-One,_

_Have you ever thought that perhaps you should've used stronger bonds? Aren't you his mate? Shouldn't you _know_ how strong your own mate is?_

_And I wouldn't be too sure, if I were you, of how happy Lord Megatron would be to see you return to the Nemesis. From what I hear, his interest in you seems to be waning in wake of your continuous disappearance. But then again, what do I know? I'm just a humble medic. You _obviously_ know your own mate much better than me._

_Not elastic? Perhaps. But based on the girth of your outdated interface toys that I found in your room, I'd say your valve can be quite accommodating!_

_Good luck finding yourself someone to spike. I think Lord Megatron will be quite pleased with me once you return from your fruitless little hunt humbled and content with the fact that you're stuck as a valve-mech for the rest of your existence._

_Come now, commander. I mean, really, what's so bad about being a valve-mech? I've tried just about everything and anything a mech can do, and I can confidently tell you that the valve is where the magic happens._

_Signed,_

_Stay fabulous (though it must be so difficult for you, being without wash-racks and polishing cloths)_

_~The Love Doctor_"

Knockout sent the response, though, just in case, changed the privacy setting so that only the recipient could see it. After all, this reply held sensitive information. If Lord Megatron somehow found out that he knew about the tyrant's newfound interest in stalking Optimus Prime, he was as good as slagged, even more so if his little rendezvous with the Autobot leader were to come to light by association.

He was still unnerved enough about Lord Megatron's threat of sticking his fusion cannon up his aft to have some resemblance of self-preservation. Besides, he was actually a little worried about what was going on between the topmost officers of the Decepticon Empire. What if Lord Megatron was actually having doubts about his relationship with Starscream? Primus, this made the medic uncomfortable just to think about.

…Perhaps it was time to enlist the help of Soundwave, for the sake of the future of all Decepticons if anything.

* * *

><p>Knockout really <em>was<em> going to contact Soundwave about this situation that could very well develop into a tangible threat to all Cybertronians on Earth. However, that urgency got lost somewhere between answering other messages and buffing out that one dull spot on the side of his aft. By the time the medic remembered his original plan of letting Soundwave in on what was going on, a full cycle had already passed. The only reason he remembered in the first place was an unintentional reminder in the form of a message from his blog.

"_Dear idiot medic,_"

The message read,

"_WHAT DID YOU DO!_

_I swear I will fragging murder you if you do not fix whatever you have done. My seeker refuses to respond to my comms and I demand to know why. He has missed our last two rendezvous dates and I am quickly losing my patience. The only correspondence he has sent me contained a note to contact you for details. Fix this, you slagging scrapheap, or I'll turn you into a hood ornament for the Nemesis!_

_Signed,_

_Not this slag again!_"

The first thought to actually cross Knockout's processors as he finished reading the message was that the Nemesis would become one pit of a fabulous ship if his beautiful frame were to decorate its hood. But then he realized that if he were to become a hood ornament, it would most likely mean his deactivation, which was when he started to become understandably disturbed.

Okay, Knockout, it's alright…calm down, he told himself, taking several deep cycles of air. Placate Lord Megatron first, and then contact Soundwave.

Yeah…that sounded like a good plan…

Taking a few kliks just to work up the nerve, the sports-car lifted his somewhat shaky hands, and proceeded to respond.

"_Dear…Um…my Lord,_

_Please, I'm really innocent! There is absolutely nothing I could've possibly done that would encourage Starscream in his completely disrespectful treatment of you, your Lordship!_

_I have given him the sincerest advices with the most genuine of intentions in attempts to convince him to return to you, but he would not listen! He misunderstands my words, and blames me for it. Surely you can relate to his manipulative nature in such manners, my lord?_

_With that said, I _will_ formulate a plan to bring him to you. Please wait for but a little longer. I promise to present you with results very soon._

_Signed,_

_Stay—…uhh, nevermind_

_~The Love Doctor_"

Quickly sending that as private as well, Knockout opened another message box, this time addressed to Soundwave. Typing rapidly, he composed a note in no time, and waited anxiously after sending it to the communications officer. Fortunately, he did not have to stew in impatience for long. Just as he expected, Soundwave was vigilantly watching out for notifications, and replied very shortly.

.

From: Hello-Ravage

To: LoveFabulously

Subject: Re: READ THIS, NOW!

Message: Reply to: "_Message received – Thursday, xx/xx/xxxx, 11: 25 PM_

"_We need to catch a certain troublesome Seeker before Lord Megatron either makes me into a hood ornament for the Nemesis or ends up fragging Optimus Prime, or both. Don't ask why or how I know, just help me if you want to actually _have_ an existence beyond the next few cycles._"

Situation: Acknowledged.

Challenge: Accepted.

Seeker trap: Can be done.

Arrival at Medical Bay: zero-point-five-six breem.

ψ(｀v ´)ψ

.

Knockout had no idea what the last clutter of symbols meant, but he knew, instinctually, that it meant the Nemesis was in no danger of becoming a fabulous ship anytime soon.

* * *

><p><strong>Notes:<strong> Big thank-yous to my lovely reviewers: _lildevchick, CrazyNutSquirrel, Koluno1986, LadyBonBon, PwnKage, Sideslip, The Happy Shark, HedgieChan, _and_ RobynRatz_. This chapter couldn't have happened without you! :)

So, let's see, what's happened in this chapter?

- Breakdown has begun to distance himself from Knockout

- Knockout, having troubles finding Breakdown, began to seek other intimate relationships (eg. Dreadwing)

- Starscream has seemingly disappeared; how he reacted to Knockout's implications toward Megatron's infidelity is currently unknown

- Megatron remains oblivious to Knockout's knowledge of his strange behaviour toward Optimus Prime

- Knockout and Soundwave team up in preparation to capture Starscream and bring him back to the Nemesis

That about sums it up!

Please keep sending Dr. Knockout questions and/or comments! This story cannot continue without your help, which is greatly appreciated!


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